The Sea is Wide
by AelianaSagitta
Summary: ... especially when you're just a little krill.


Some members of the food chain would always be predators, and some would always be prey. Vivian Krill pondered this as she turned over the folded bundle in her hands. It was the floral dress, blue cardigan, and flats she'd worn to work on D-Day. She and the other workers called it that now. When all the dinosaurs that you'd never want to see loose got loose, and she couldn't save Nick the _I. rex_ minder or the ACU team or Mr. Masrani or anyone else at the other end of her mic ...

She could hear the soles of the gold flats rattling against each other from within the shaking bundle. Setting aside her former favorite outfit, she hugged herself in preparation for the inevitable breakdown. Years of calmly handling emergencies through a computer screen and a crackling headset had taught her not to try to dam up the ocean when it was ready to burst forth.

The tiny sea creatures that shared her surname had only plankton between themselves and the absolute bottom of the marine ecosystem. Vivian felt like that sometimes. As she scrabbled for a blanket, she wished that everyone who loved her didn't live so far away.

* * *

"OK, kids, today you start your oceanography unit …" began the weary sub. About two-thirds of the class responded with a bellow of "BORING!"

"We wanna study dinosaurs!" yelled one of the biggest kids.

"My older cousin goes to school with Tim Murphy, and he gave him a DNA sample that I keep in my room!" a girl squealed from across the classroom.

"Last year you said it was your older brother!"

"DINOSAURS! DINOSAURS!"

"Kids, your book doesn't even have a dinosaur unit, and I don't know enough to …"

Three of the biggest boys stood up and began out-yelling each other with dinosaur facts, occasionally corrected by a pedantic-looking classmate with a pinched face. Vivian laid her forehead on her arms and stared out the corner of her eye at the icy playground. She hated the daily commotions that broke out while her regular teacher was on maternity leave, but whatever delayed the inevitable was welcome today.

The students were finally pacified by a promise of a relevant _Finding Nemo_ clip after they covered each major undersea animal in the book. The whale section was first. Of course.

...

"Swim away!" yelled the fortieth kid that hour, running up, tagging Vivian, and running off with a shriek. She languished against the table and regarded them all with a dead expression. At least she wasn't crying about it, like she had this time last year. That had only brought on more teasing about her "baby eyes." Sooner or later, they'd get tired of her name and find some other part of the gym/cafeteria to inflict themselves upon until indoor recess was over. All she had to do was wait.

* * *

Her coworkers at Jurassic World were _slightly_ more mature. The first few who heard her full name would jokingly warn her away from the Mosasaurus tank; but since she usually just introduced herself as "Vivian," the "Krill" went unnoticed. (Except by Lowery, who sometimes greeted her with "Oh, look! Krill!")

She hoped she wasn't kidding herself, but Vivian had never consciously placed "being noticed" on her list of career goals. She just wanted to help keep people safe. Her protective nature had surfaced at an early age, leading her to declare "police officer" as her childhood ambition on career days. She even studied criminal justice in college, as part of an attempt to squash her growing doubts about her fitness for the job. However, her fears were confirmed when nearly all of her acquaintances staged an informal intervention to keep her from applying to the police academy. She was too mild-mannered for basic training (let alone field work) and she secretly knew it. So she applied to be a dispatcher instead.

* * *

"Some headhunters called me today," Vivian informed her boyfriend as he settled at the table.

He slurped at the straw in the corner of his mouth. "From where?"

"Masrani Global. They're looking for a 'control room operator' for … that dinosaur park in Costa Rica?" she shrugged.

"Jurassic World?" The straw fell out of his stunned mouth. "You have to take it!"

"I thought you said you liked hearing my voice in your headset," she mock-pouted.

"No, don't make your big sad eyes at me. It's _dinosaurs_! You could get me free admission!"

Vivian laughed, "I doubt it. And even if I could, just getting there and finding a place to stay would cost thousands of dollars. Where would you get that?" She pulled at her own drink, with a "mic drop" expression on her face.

"I would save up for Jurassic World. Don't shake your head at me; I will. See if I don't."

"I will be very interested to see this," she goaded as the waiter came back.

* * *

That was the last conversation they'd had in person. Masrani HR made a very persuasive salary offer. The knowledge that it was probably still one of the most modest paychecks on the island made Vivian's head swim. To her safety-conscious mind, though, the best part was the assurance that there had been no fatalities or debilitating injuries in the park's seven years of operation.

"With all the awards you've won for being such a stellar dispatcher, we wouldn't expect any less caution from you!" laughed the recruiter she'd spoken with most often. "We don't presume to match the importance of your work within the public safety sector; but the clearheadedness you've displayed in life-threatening situations makes you a perfect fit for ACU's work with our extremely powerful assets."

Being immune neither to flattery nor a good paycheck, Vivian was prepared to ship out to Isla Nublar by the end of the next week. Her boyfriend's shifts until then were all the opposite of hers.

"I love how my next day off is right after you leave," he grumbled through FaceTime.

"I know," she murmured, pushing her earbuds in deeper to help her hear him over the airport noise.

"I also love how you squint when you're trying to listen hard. But that's for real, though."

"I love how you're FaceTiming from your squad car when you're supposed to be on patrol," she teased. "Your new dispatcher must be asleep."

"That's actually possible. I think she's about 80. But I had to say goodbye somehow."

"You know I appreciate it. I would've hated to try to see you when you were off; you need your sleep."

"Babe, sometimes you're so considerate that it's borderline timid. It's a good thing you never joined the force."

"Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Whoop. I'm getting a call. Bye, Viv. Love you. Don't get eaten."

She puckered her lips as his face vanished. At least she'd see him somewhat soon. They'd agreed to split the cost of his first visit, and she'd see him on her first vacation. Now, though, it was time to board.

* * *

Vivian had to admit, the grand tour of Jurassic World was one of the most fun things she'd ever done. She saw why people willingly paid the equivalent of a year of private school tuition for a long weekend here. The air was sticky but invigorating. Her supervisors were the picture of calm authority, which became striking when you glanced past them at the surrounding prehistoric killer beasts. Vivian won her coworkers' respect quickly when Assets Manager Dearing, legendary for her aloofness, made a few minutes of cheerful small talk with her.

"You survived your first encounter with the most dangerous thing in this whole park," Lowery told Vivian seriously, his hands glued to his cheeks in shock. She countered that she'd simply never been cowed by the wealthy and influential. They were still just people. He admitted that that would explain why Mr. Masrani had taken such a shine to her.

Privately, Vivian was sure that the title of "most dangerous thing in the park" belonged to the Mosasaurus. Thanks to ACU's well-documented competence in handling containment anomalies, none of the land carnivores unnerved her too much, and the herbivores not at all. (Sometimes she even slipped over to the petting zoo to get in an Apatosaurus cuddle when she missed home a little more than normal.) But the Aviary creatures scared her, and the Mosasaurus scared the crap out of her. She sat through that part of the new employee tour with her eyes shut tight after one good look. No one ever saw her near the aquarium after that.

Maybe it was something instinctive, or maybe a residual issue from childhood — she had never been too fond of marine biology ever since the relentless teasing that had accompanied grade-school oceanography. If she kept quiet about her Mosaphobia, she hoped, she might avoid the worst of the krill jokes.

* * *

Lowery plopped into his work chair with a louder-than-normal sigh.

Vivian tried to ignore him, but he started twiddling a plastic parasaurolophus with one hand and stroking his goatee with the other. That only happened when something was really wrong.

"Having trouble?" she asked without looking up from her display.

"Call State Farm," he responded automatically. "But yeah, I can't figure out who keeps eating my sandwiches. I label them and everything. The security tapes from the break room don't face the fridge. " His stomach rumbled. "And I'm about to start eating my dinosaurs."

She paused, nodded, and started typing. "OK. I'm sending you an email. Check this when you go home tonight, and follow the instructions."

The next morning, the habitually early Lowery popped into the break room as everyone was headed out to their stations to clock in.

"Too late for breakfast now, man," a vet's assistant commented.

"I know, I know! I overslept, and I couldn't find any plastic wrap," he explained as he stuck a small Tupperware containing a sandwich in the refrigerator.

Late that afternoon, Vivian and Lowery clocked out at the same time and made for the break room. She set her purse on the counter.

"Yep, it's gone," Lowery announced after a sweep of the fridge and cabinets.

Vivian peeked into the trash, the sink, and finally the dishwasher. "Aha." Following her, Lowery saw the red lid stuffed behind some dirty plates and began to reach for it. He caught himself just in time and poked his hands into his pockets instead, while Vivian opened her purse and plucked out her latex gloves.

"You forgot to do the glove snap," he complained as she bent to grasp the lid with her rubbery blue fingertips.

"Not really my style."

She spread a paper towel on the counter and set the lid on it, next procuring a small tin of garlic powder. "I didn't have any flour or Borax, but this should work," she mused. Lowery watched closely as she scattered the spice on the lid and swept gingerly at it with a makeup brush.

"How do you know they didn't wash their fingerprints off?"

"There are still a few crumbs on here. Even if they'd washed it with soap, though, they would still get new prints all over it when they rinsed it and put it away."

"What if someone else touched it later?"

She glanced back at the dishwasher. "Not likely. It's pretty empty, so it's not like anyone would have needed to move it out of their way. Plus, most people's lunches are prepackaged."

Vivian bit her tongue as she applied packing tape to the most intact thumbprint she saw.

"Now we run it through the employee fingerprint database," Lowery sang, dancing giddily. "Where'd you learn how to do this again?"

"I took a few forensic science classes for my criminal justice major."

* * *

The sandwich thief turned out to be Owen Grady, the new raptor specialist. His overconfident, jockish attitude had rubbed Lowery the wrong way since they'd met, and Owen found Lowery's constant display of nerdy knowledge annoying. Thus, Owen had taken to collecting the Post-It notes from Lowery's sandwiches as "trophies" for his office. The most recent one, from the Tupperware, threatened in fluorescent orange marker, "This sandwich is the property of Lowery Cruthers. He is HUNGRY. Eat this, and he will eat you just to get it back."

Vivian snorted through her tears, remembering the look on Owen's face when they met his protestations of innocence by silently holding up what they had brought: she had a copy of Owen's thumbprint scan, and Lowery had a plastic knife and fork. Owen, to his credit, responded by confessing his douchebaggery and giving Lowery his own sandwich for that day. Both of them always got a respectful passing nod from Owen after that.

She was pretty sure that was when Lowery's crush on her blossomed into full flower. He'd tried (and failed) to mask it by being even goofier than usual. He announced her to their fellow coworkers the next morning as "the greatest CSI investigator that never was." He dubbed their shared workspace "Cruthers and Krill, Consulting Detectives." He named his Saurornitholestes figurine after her, explaining that _S. sullivani_ was "basically the bloodhound of dinosaurs." He spared her from having to stay any longer on Isla Nublar — her competence in the Control Room was so well-known that she might have been asked to stay behind if he hadn't volunteered.

Both men had matured so much.

Her boyfriend, meanwhile …

* * *

 _I have my half of your visit!_ Vivian texted him the minute she finished transferring the funds to her savings account.

Several hours later:

 _Wow already? I knew u made more than me now but that's crazy_

 _Yes! How are you doing, by the way? I can't wait to see you!_

The next day:

 _It's going alright. Miss u too_

He never was a wordy texter, so she let it be. It did worry her that he hadn't reached out much at all after the first month, but she refused to let her brain run wild. How much sense did it make to keep herself pulled together in work-related situations if she was just going to turn around and melt into a wailing puddle every time her private life had a hiccup?

A few weeks later, a call from her best friend at home suggested that her instincts were more right than she wanted them to be.

"Have you seen Jake's new boat?" asked Crystal.

Vivian blinked. "Boat?"

"Yeah, the picture he put on Facebook yesterday. With the caption that says something like 'I thought saving was for losers until I found out I had enough for a down payment on this baby'?"

Vivian tapped over to his feed and scrolled down a few days. "All I'm seeing from yesterday is a motivational quote he shared from me. Are you sure it's him?"

She was adamant. When Vivian was still dubious, Crystal got her to sign out and log back in using Crystal's own email and password. Suddenly Vivian saw three times the posts that normally appeared on her screen. The new boat … several parties … a hiking trip …

"I thought you knew about all that. I didn't know he'd restricted you. Apparently his hours got cut way down because his superiors weren't very happy with how much he was slacking lately."

Vivian found the post about that event a split second later. He finished his rant about the police station with, "But whatever, more time to party!"

There was no hard evidence of cheating, but lots of soft evidence of drifting. She'd actually known for a while that they were over, she realized; she just never let herself think about it. Why could she always smell a trap coming, even before the officers she was dispatching did; but in her love life, she could ignore red flags like nobody's business?

Best not to have The Talk yet, though. That way she could still use the "I have a boyfriend" excuse to fend off the rebound sharks who came circling every time a girl broke up. Claire Dearing could scare those guys away permanently with one steely glare, but Vivian's face would never be anything but soft.

At the moment, it was also wet.

* * *

Vivian finally uncurled herself from beneath her covers and remembered the bundle of clothes on the floor. She was all cried out for the moment, so she forced her wobbly legs to stand and carry her to the mirror. There was just enough time to treat her puffy eyes and gather up her old clothes before heading down to the group therapy session. The counselors had instructed everyone to bring the item(s) that held the worst memories for them, where they would discuss the painful associations before burning the items one by one, saying goodbye to that part of their lives. Then, hopefully, they could move on a little farther.

Finishing a quick swipe of makeup, Vivian smiled bravely at her reflection and turned to gather up what she called her "failure suit." Her personal therapist had particularly advised her to burn it, as a way to remind herself that she was _not_ a failure. She had done her job well.

She'd considered burning Mr. Masrani's suit coat, too — the one she'd held on to like a lifeline ever since he passed it to her as he strode toward _Jurassic One_. Then she thought about it and realized that _this_ garment held nothing but good memories for her. It smelled like the cheap cologne he always bought from the same old street vendor in his hometown in India, "to keep me constantly in mind of where I came from." It reminded her of how friendly he'd been with every staff member he had time to meet. (Even the high schoolers who only worked one summer, prancing off the boat with noses held high at being chosen for such a prestigious job, and slinking back onto it after 2.5 months as they complained about the heat and the smell.) It whispered to her when she felt like the biggest failure of all, _He died quickly and with dignity, doing something he'd always wanted to. It wasn't a waste._

She hugged the bundle tighter and scurried out the door. Two other women from Control, both older than her, were huddled a few yards down the hall. They moved in quickly to flank her as she passed, seeking comfort from the calm voice that could always be counted on, no matter how troublesome things were outside.

After she was gone, a few "pings" sounded in the silence of her room — little bits of light that would unfold into messages when she got back and found them.

Mom: _Hi Vivi, my time off request just got approved. I'll be there by 9 tomorrow morning. Hang on for me till then._

Crystal: _Hope you're doing ok today, bestie. Call me if you have a second — I have some good news. Love you._

Lowery: _Hey sorry I made everything all awko taco last time we saw each other. Idk what I was thinking. You were right that one time you said I watch too many movies. Anyway, it was crazy awesome working with you, and I promise I'll never go for your or anyone else's face again without permission. See you in group tonight. If we go our separate ways after this, let me just say thanks for the fingerprinting and everything else. I'll never forget how you kept your head. It really helped the rest of us do the same. —L_


End file.
